Lie
by kbrewster
Summary: Ian finds out the truth about Lauren Reynolds. Requested fic!


**Here's another prompt request I got- with a request to be added to FF. net so here it is :) The prompt for this one was "Ian finds out Lauren is a spy, and they fight" and this is what I came up with! Enjoy :) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own CM**

**-kbrewster.**

It had been a week since Ian had asked her to raise Declan as her own, to become a killer, to be like his father. It had been a week filled with awkward silences and short tempers. Emily felt herself becoming increasingly more paranoid. She hadn't slept much, had hardly eaten. Ian was growing suspicious of her. It scared her, because with as many people as Ian knew, as many resources as he could get his hands on, if he _really _wanted to, he could have her cover blown in minutes. Sure, Interpol had done a crazy good job of making Lauren Reynolds look like a real person, but anyone who looked hard enough would figure it out.

It scared her to death. Her fears are what led her here, in the garden outside the massive villa she called home now. There wasn't much of anything that needed tending to, so Emily found herself sitting in the midst of the flowers, picking her nails, lost in thought. She was so consumed with her thoughts, she hardly heard the footsteps approaching behind her.

"We need to talk," she heard Ian's familiar voice say, though his tone was serious.

Emily whipped her head around to face him, and put on the best fake smile she could muster. "About what?" she asked, hoping her acting skills were better than she felt they were.

"Come with me," he said, taking her by the arm and pulling her up from the ground. He led her wordlessly into the villa, into their bedroom without a word. Emily felt her breath catch in her throat when he released her arm, crossing his own across his chest. The look he wore on his face was one she knew well, but it was one she had never seen directed at her before. She licked her lips, her throat dry and scratchy.

"I'm going to ask you some questions, and you're going to be honest with me," he said matter-of-factly.

She raised an eyebrow at him, and mimicked his stance, crossing her arms. "What's this about?" she asked, still hoping she could deter him with her acting.

"You know what it's about,"

She chewed on her bottom lip and shook her head. "Enlighten me, Ian," she requested, refusing to let herself appear weak before him. Truth was, she could feel her entire body shaking with fear. It wasn't like her to get scared easily, but she could tell based on his actions, he knew more than he was supposed to. He'd done some digging.

"Do you remember that first night we met?"

"Of course I do," she replied. "How could I forget?" She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes like her smile normally did.

"And when we left the bar for some alone time? You told me your middle name was Marie,"

"Yes…" she agreed. Where exactly was he going with this.

"Declan told me yesterday that you told him your middle name was Elizabeth.

_Shit. _Emily thought. Her middle name _was _Elizabeth. Lauren's was Marie. She could have smacked herself in the head, had Ian not been standing there watching. Instead, she frowned.

"I did? Are you sure? You know how he likes to make things up. It's adorable, but it could get him in real trouble someday…." she rambled.

"Louise heard it too,"

_Dammit. _She cursed again. "I don't know what I was thinking," she faked a small laugh.

"And then you told me once you were 30. But when I asked you a few days ago what you'd like for your birthday, you told me you were turning 35,"

Another string of profanities coursed through Emily's brain. She'd really messed this up, it seemed.

"Not to mention, you told me your parents had died. But when I asked you who you were on the phone with last week, you told me it was your mom,"

Emily bit her lip and took a couple steps backwards. She was caught. She didn't know how much Ian knew, but she knew she was in trouble.

"Last week when I asked you to raise Declan, you refused," Ian continued. "You seem very fond of him, no?"

This time, Emily found her courage. She glanced up to meet Ian's bright blue eyes. "Declan is the sweetest little kid I know," she said with as much honesty as she could, because that she actually meant. She'd never seen herself with kids growing up, too afraid of turning out like her own mother. But the more she was around Declan, the more she realized maybe having her own some day wouldn't be such a bad thing. "I'd never lie to you about him," she added.

"And you love me?" Ian asked.

Emily uncrossed her arms and took a few steps forward, she tried to wrap her arms around Ian's neck, but he swatted her away and refused to meet her eyes.

"Look at me," she instructed, and he did as he was told. "_I love you_," she emphasized. She meant this, too. She was never supposed to actually fall in love with the man standing before her, but she had. She saw the side of him very few people got to see. She witnessed day in and day out how devoted he was to Declan. Every night he was home at a decent hour, she saw the compassionate, loving side of him. She had been intimate with him in every sense of the word, and she had enjoyed it every time.

"Then it doesn't make sense for you to not want to raise him!" Ian said, his voice raised. "So I had some people dig into your past,"

"Ian!" she interrupted.

"Quiet," he ordered. "I had some people dig into your past," he continued. "No one remembers you," he said. "All the people you claim to know, claim to be friends with?" he asked, referring to her address book that had been constructed carefully, for looks basically, to make Lauren Reynolds seems as real as possible. "None of them know who you are. The high school you said you went to? No record of you being there. You don't have any pictures of you before you came into my life, into _my son's life," _he said, his voice still angry and loud.

"Ian," she said, her voice cracking and barely above a whisper. "Please, Ian. Let me- let me explain,"

"_Explain_ _what, Emily?_" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the room, sending chills up Emily's spine. He knew her real name. Emily. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been referred to as Emily. It almost felt strange. "Liam was right. You're too good to be true. Because you _don't exist," _he said, balling his fists up, his face reddening. He looked like he wanted to punch something- or someone.

"I let you get close to Declan. I told you he was mine! I've never told _anyone _that! You were sent here to get close to me. I already know that. You're supposed to get as much dirt on me as you can, aren't you?" He questioned. "You're going to have my son taken from me!" He screamed. "I'm all he's got, don't you know that? I'm his father! How could you do this?" He continued, pacing from one end of the room to the other.

"Ian, no, you've got it all wrong!" she tried lying, to no avail. She was caught, and she knew it. But was she _really _caught, she wondered. She had been sent here for the very reason Ian had mentioned. The second he had told her about Declan, all Emily had to do was call her team, and it would have been over. They would have taken Declan, used him as a pawn. They would have done unspeakable things to him to make Ian talk, to take him down. The thought made Emily feel sick. Declan was four-years-old. What kind of person would she be, letting him be used in that way? She refused. She loved him too much. She loved Ian too much. The feelings were real. The identity, the back story, those might have been fake. But not the way she felt about Ian, and not the dedication she felt towards Declan.

"No, just listen!" Emily begged. But Ian was having none of it, he turned away, making his way out of the room, but not before punching the wall, leaving a perfect fist-sized hole.

Emily sighed. She had to fix this. She had to fix it now. She followed him out of the room and down to the kitchen, where she found himself pouring a glass of Scotch.

"I want you to go," Ian said when he saw her approaching. "I want you out of here. Declan and I are going to have to leave. It's obviously not safe for us," he said, never looking in her direction.

"Ian, can we please talk about this?"

"There's nothing to talk about! You lied to me, you lied to my son, and now it's up to me to make sure he stays with me. I can't believe I trusted you," he said.

The hurt Emily heard in his voice as he spoke was enough to make tears well in her brown eyes. She breathed deeply, closing her eyes as she exhaled, to keep her tears at bay. This was not the time to get emotional, she reminded herself.

"Ian," she started again, not waiting for him to look at her, or even respond. "I know this looks bad. It looks really bad. But you have to understand, this, this whole _mission_,_" _she said, her voice small. She didn't even sound like herself, she thought. She sounded more like she had when she was younger, a teenager, scared and vulnerable. "This whole thing, it's crap," she continued.

He didn't respond, didn't move. She inched closer to him, but didn't try to touch him.

"I can't tell you I wasn't sent here to eventually get you locked up." she admitted, watching his face go from sad to angry. "But," she added quickly. "But I wasn't supposed to actually fall in love with you. I wasn't supposed to love Declan as my own,"

At this, Ian turned his head to the side, more towards her, still looking downwards, but at least it was something.

"Do you really think I'm that good of an actress?" she asked, forcing a laugh. "All those nights you made me scream your name? All those nights I begged you for more? When I asked you to stay with me, when you had to go out on a job without me? Did you really think that was all forced?" she asked.

"Could've been," Ian said dryly.

"It wasn't," Emily said, placing a hand on Ian's shoulder. He didn't shy away, so she left it there. "It was real. It _is _real. And Declan," she added. "I don't make forts in the living room and serve chocolate chip pancakes on Sunday mornings for everyone," she laughed again, this time it wasn't so forced. "Honestly, Ian, he's such a special little boy. He's so smart, he's so creative, he's so much fun to be around. I was never one for kids until I met him. That's the truth," she said.

"How do I know you're not lying? How do I know this isn't all another act and you'll have me arrested by the end of the night?" he asked, finally lifting his head to face her.

"Because," she said, sitting herself directly in his lap. Again, he didn't protest, so she stayed. "I could have done that a week ago," she told him. "When you told me about Declan being yours. I could have been done that night. All this would have been over. But… the things they'd do to him to get you to talk? I couldn't… I can't. I refuse. I would rather die," she said.

"What?" Ian asked.

"I don't want to turn you in," she admitted. "I don't want anything to happen to this… to us,"

"I don't either. You're the best thing that's happened around her in a long time. Whether or not it was real,"

"It doesn't get more real than this," she stated, going in for a kiss, which he returned much to her surprise. It wasn't a lie. None of it was, and she only hoped this was Ian's wordless way of agreeing with her.


End file.
